


something close to like a sugar rush

by slashy (slashmyheartandhopetoporn)



Category: Justice League (2017)
Genre: M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 15:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13367970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmyheartandhopetoporn/pseuds/slashy
Summary: late night diner trips are the best way to get to know someone, in barry's opinion. arthur tries to test that theory.





	something close to like a sugar rush

**Author's Note:**

> god help me make this a completed fic.
> 
> many of what you read here is thanks to a joint mental effort between myself and my good irl friend JB Esquire. 
> 
> again. god help me finish this.
> 
> also i hope you like it!!!
> 
> title from lana's "beautiful people beautiful problems":
> 
> Blue is the color of the shirt of the man I love  
> He's hard at work, hard to the touch  
> But warm is the body of the girl from the land he loves  
> My heart is soft, my past is rough
> 
> But when I love him, get a feeling, something close to like a sugar rush  
> It runs through me  
> But is it wasted love?  
> (It's not wasted love)

After Steppenwolf, Bruce offers to buy Barry a proper apartment in Central City not too far from the crime lab where Bruce hooked him up with a job. But Barry turns the offer down. He’s rather fond of his alleyway bunker set up, which was already _in_ Central City, and being close to work doesn’t much matter when one can run the distance in a matter of seconds. The only downside there is the chafe--Barry’s tired of wearing down the thighs of his jeans--but Bruce cooked him up something more sustainable in that Bat Cave of his, so that situation’s pretty much resolved. Besides, Barry likes Central City. Even though he’s lived in a dozen different places since he became a speedster, Central City will always be home for him. And it’s closer to his dad, too.

That he’s not in the same place as the rest of the Justice League-ers is only a minor bummer. Most of the team are off in their separate cities, anyway. Barry can’t imagine a world where Bruce doesn’t haunt Gotham. Victor stays back in Metropolis so he can be near his father, and Clark goes back to Metropolis, too. And honestly, nobody knows where either Diana or Arthur go to whenever they’re not fighting the good fight for justice and peace. So Barry hangs out alone in Central City, and he’s cool with that. Mostly.

Barry wasn’t lying when he told Bruce he really needed friends. That he was, essentially, desperate for company. And he has some now, kind of. But not...exactly as he envisioned them. Because Barry knows he ranks the lowest of their group. That his skills are powerful and handy, but that he himself is awkward and irritating to most of the team. Some days Bruce seems to barely tolerate him. Victor oscillates between tentative acquaintanceship and outright hostility. Arthur just ignores him. Only Clark and Diana seem to actively like when Barry’s around. But hey--two out of five ain’t bad, he figures. At least, Barry tells himself, he gets to see them regularly, which staves off a good deal of the occasional loneliness. He knows that they aren’t all friends, but he’s happy to settle for co-workers. These ones seem to like him more than the people at the crime lab, at least.

Barry’s grateful for the job, of course. It’s steady and straightforward. And while he’s starting at the bottom, he knows there’s room to grow. His work may not be as glamorous as Diana’s, who spends her days restoring artifacts at various national and international prestigious museums``, but it’s good work. Important work. And it’s putting him on the path he’s dreamed of since he was nine years old. Besides, Bruce doesn’t even _have_ a job, really, so Barry should be proud. At least he’s employed.

At the end of the day, Barry’s just glad his life has found some traction. That he isn’t just treading water, floating from place to place, life to life. His feet have found solid ground, and he’s digging them in as deep as he can. It makes his dad happy. It makes Barry happy. And he gets to help save the world on a semi-regular basis-- _th_ _is shit’s the life_ , as far as Barry is concerned. And, yeah. To a degree he can say he even has friends. Sure, they don’t socialize much outside of post-battle carbo-loads at Bruce’s mansion, but that’s more than Barry’s ever had before, so he’ll take it.

Honestly, the enormous dinners at the mansion are Barry’s favorite part anyway. He gets good food and good company, and he can’t imagine what else in life could be better. Sex, maybe, if it’s _really_ good, but even then he has his doubts. If there’s sex better than Alfred’s pasta and the privilege of watching Diana roast Bruce for a solid hour and a half, Barry hasn’t had it yet.

He likes these dinners too, because they bring everyone together. High on the adrenaline and endorphins of a fight well fought (usually, anyway—sometimes the meals get somber and quiet instead), everyone proves merry and open. Softer around the edges, somehow. And Barry loves it. Loves sitting between Arthur and Diana, drinking beer and eating bread, and bitching about how Clark’s hair stays perfectly coiffed no matter how hard they fight.

“I can’t help it,” Clark says. “We can’t all be born with such beauty.”

Arthur snorts. “Maybe it’s Maybelline.”

“You’re just jealous,” Diana says over the top of Barry’s head.

“Nah, I like my hair the way it is.”

Diana raises a brow. “As a bird’s nest?”

“Excuse me,” Arthur says, leaning well over Barry to stare hard at Diana, and pointing to his tangled mass. “They call these _beach waves_.” Tendrils of _beach waves_ tickle Barry’s nose.

“It makes you look very rugged,” he says as Arthur leans back into his seat.

“Thanks, kid,” he replies. “See,” he says to the rest of the group as he pokes Barry’s shoulder roughly. “They make me more manly.”

Victor shakes his head. “They really don’t.”

“You’re all a bunch of assholes,” Arthur mutters. “Except this dude.” He nudges Barry.

Barry’s cheeks feel far too hot. He’s used to Arthur pretending like he isn’t there, not nudging him with his enormous biceps. He needs some water. A moment later, there is a glass of it magically before him. He turns his head towards Diana, who is putting the water pitcher back down on the table. “Thanks,” he says quietly. “You know, you make a good Team Dad.”

Diana opens her mouth to speak, but appears to think better of it. “Thank you?” she finally says.

Bruce purses his lips to hide a smile.

The night doesn’t last much longer after that. Only ten minutes later, Victor stands and takes his leave. He’s always the first to go, and Barry tries not to take it personally. He wants Victor to feel comfortable with them. He knows it’s still a struggle for the man--and Victor _is_ still a man--to open up. Barry knows that Victor is still learning about his new body and its capabilities. That this creates conflict for him. But Barry just wants for Victor to feel safe, as Barry feels safe. He knows he can only do so much, though.

After Victor is usually Clark. Lois is waiting at home for him, and Barry can’t fault Clark for wanting to be with her. He doesn’t really know Lois, since he hadn’t been party to the meeting where Bruce recruited her to help with Clark post-reanimation. She seems nice, though. And she’s good for Clark. Still, Barry always wishes Clark would stay a little longer. Clark’s good for the team, his energy calm and steady and kind. He seems somehow purer than the rest of them, somehow above the petty problems of human life. Diana has the same aura, but she hides it better. She terrifies Barry in a way Clark never has, but he doesn’t necessarily consider that a bad thing.

On this night, Diana follows Clark out. Barry suspects she wants to speak with him, and a quick look at Bruce’s frown confirms he has the same suspicions. It’s always disconcerting to see the cracks in the facade Bruce constructs with Diana and Clark. To see the moments that reveal things aren’t as copacetic as they may seem. Barry understands by now that it’s part and parcel with being part of a team with such powerful personalities. That there will be things kept close to the chest. That there will be people who don’t like feeling that things are being hidden from them. Even Barry, of course, has his own secrets after all.

With half the group gone, Barry looks at Bruce expectantly. This is usually the moment Bruce calls for a car to take Barry back to his hideout. Barry can drive, but he doesn’t have a car because he lives so close to work and prefers to spend his money on reasonable things instead of being bled dry by gasoline companies, so he’s reliant on Bruce for transportation if Barry doesn’t plan on running.

Bruce nods and turns to Alfred. “Can we get the car?”

“Cancel that,” Arthur says. “I can take him back.”

Bruce raises his brows. “You sure?”

Arthur stands and shrugs into the surprisingly stylish coat that he had hung on the back of his chair. “Yeah, I’m headed that way tonight anyway.”

“Thanks,” says Barry, surprised. He’s never caught a ride from Arthur before. It’s unexpected, but not unpleasantly so.

Arthur’s beat up old truck is nothing special, and exactly like Barry would have expected the man to drive.

“You’re like a walking jeans commercial,” he says as he climbs in.

“I don’t know what that means, man,” replies Arthur as he gets in too.

“You’re just...such a guy.”

Arthur considers this. “I am going to take that as a compliment.”

“As you should,” Barry agrees. Then he looks down to strap himself in because safety first. “Hey! No seatbelts?”

Arthur snorts. “Get real.”

Barry’s eyes narrow. “Do you not consider seatbelts a real thing?”

Arthur throws Barry an incredulous look. “It’s not like we exactly need them.”

Barry can’t really argue. “Still,” he says. “If you had a civilian in here this would be highly unsafe. I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, you like to say a lot.”

“I do,” Barry agrees, jovial. He’s never bothered hiding how much he likes to talk. Or rather, how much he needs to talk when he’s happy. Or angry. Or nervous. And tonight he’s nervous, sitting beside Author in his dusty old truck as they fly down the backroads connecting Gotham to Central City.

Arthur, like all the other members of the team, remains in many ways an unknown to Barry. He trusts the man with his life, but doesn’t really know how to act around him without the rest of the group. In fact, now that Barry thinks about it, this is first time he’s ever been alone with Arthur. And that makes him nervous, which makes Barry talk.

He talks about the weather, the kind they’re having, the kind he likes, the kind he hates. He talks about the bad dudes they’ve taken down and and cool shit they’ve seen in the midst of it all. He talks about how much he loves Diana and Clark and how he’s trying his hardest to befriend Victor. And through it all Arthur stays largely silent, save for the occasional snort or grunt.

Barry doesn’t mind the quiet too much. He’s spent enough time with Arthur and the others to know that Arthur’s default mode is skeptical silence regardless of who’s around, so he knows not to take it too personally. Which is why Barry’s surprised when Arthur finally does speak up.

“Where am I dropping you?” comes Arthur’s gruff voice as they drive into Central City.

Barry’s about to tell Arthur where to turn first when they pass a Denny’s on the outskirts of town. “Ooh!” he all but yells. “Right here!”

“What?” Arthur says, confused. “You live out here?”

“No,” Barry says as he stares wistfully at the Denny’s growing smaller with every passing second that Arthur keeps driving. “But I’m really hungry.”

“The fuck you are,” Arthur says, but he makes to turn the car around anyway. “You ate like _two_ _pounds_ of pasta at Bat’s tonight!”

Barry shrugs. “I always under-eat out of respect for Alfred.”

“ _Under-eat_?”

“Dude, do you understand how much energy I expend to be in speed-mo-mode for the extended periods of time it takes to beat up bad guys? Because the answer is, like, a lot. Like, a lot-a lot. Like, a lot-a lot-a--”

“Okay, man, I get it. You need to eat and we just passed a Denny’s. Fine.” A moment later Arthur is pulling into the parking lot.

“Thanks again, Arthur,” Barry says as he opens the truck door. “I appreciate the lift. Wait, what are you doing?”

He asks because Arthur is getting out of the truck too.

Arthur frowns and tilts his head. “I always have room for a milkshake.” Then he walks ahead of Barry and towards the Denny’s entrance.

Barry grins, surprised but pleased. “I’m getting second dinner with Aquaman, _what_!” he says under his breath.

“I heard that,” Arthur calls back.

Barry winces, then he hops out of the truck and hurries after Arthur with a heartfelt, “Sorry!”

But privately Barry thinks again, _I’m getting second dinner with Aquaman--what!_

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: HOW COULD I FORGET! like aquaflash? use tumblr? follow my aquaflash blog and help us get more of a presence on tumblr. i know we're out here, sailing this ship....aquaflas-h.tumblr.com


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